You begin a fall, and perhaps some one will amble by and offer their support (an elbow, a back, a fingertip), or perhaps your fall is uninterrupted and your support turns out to be the ground. Gravity is reliable, so is the earth (The floor is your friend).
Or one can propose by touching heads (lying down on our backs, crown to crown; eventually of half our bodies will float up together while the other half sinks down towards our friend, the ground. Rolling, floating, sinking).
Any touch is a proposition.
(Say no to a proposition. Become a statue. Retract from touch. Go get water.)
(but today: "For here or to go?" "To go. Though if you'll have a drink with me, it'll be for here." It was more awkward to avoid that proposition. Shifty eyes, halfway grimace, deflected small talk. )
And how HOW much more awkward it is to MAKE propositions in everyday life than in contact jamming! Touch is too great of a proposition (just a handshake, a hug held a moment too long). We advance invitations, questions (tell me a story, a joke, tell me about the weather, your weekend. Make me laugh), we try to create spaces of safety and positivity, try to open channels of reciprocity through aesthetics/politics/vegetable-adoration/mutual appreciation/insults/compliments. If the conversation continues, we're already halfway there. But somehow it stops. at. half. way.
Or it keeps going! the propositions flow freely, careen in from both directions; the pressure to go down on one's knees lies with no one in particular; it's liquid, it's a dance, dance of lifeandpossibilityand and suddenly we're really fucking deep inside.
Buuuuurp.
And you'd think it would be easier to propose the second time, but it keeps getting harder.
edit: and what kind of proposition is this? does pity or joy work more efficiently to create a space of reciprocity? (and towards you, halfway-round-the-worlders, what is the equivalent of touch, how do I make a proposition?
hint: I smell like mint; it's a weed I've been pruning all day)
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